There's Always A Tree Dying Somewhere
No one mourns.
In the night they fall, their crashing sounds unheard.
Their spirits silently transported to a high holy place,
a sanctuary known only by trees.
They perhaps mourn their own.
In an unknown language they ritualistically recount:
the broken branches once besat by robin and owl.
Do trees know that they know?
Do they lean over a lake to glimpse themselves?
Do they wonder if their pockmarked skin will someday
be transfigured into fences with knotholes?
Will their remains be formed into a casket smooth
and quilted-satin lined.
Or maybe their fate is to become loose kindling for
the campers' summer fire, out gloried by weenie roasts
and late night s'mores.
But, no one mourns the odd tree down, give or take, right or wrong.
No one mourns.
(Bonus)
The following was also written to the same prompt.
#
Robotics
The problem starts with the SR-T3100 and the phone rings.
"Yes, yes, yessir. Will do, will check it immediately." Says Wiley.
Wiley repockets his phone and takes out his kerchief to clean his glasses. He's not in a rush. He reflects on his rebellion: Today Wiley simultaneously uploads two completely conflicting software protocols. The first is a functionality schematic. The second allows a degree of creativity in design or what the coders refer to as the 'cuteness factor'.
Meanwhile the assembly line is rapidly forming planks or boards. Each one has a perfectly presented die-cut knothole in the same place. The phone rings again.
"Yesss, uh, I think I know what I did wrong."
Wiley looks at the line and the SR-T3100 is defiantly holding two boards in front of where a head might be pretending to peer out through knotholes.
"No sir. It's not cute, I agree."
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Author's Note
Recently written to a prompt word: knothole. No disrespect to the ents intended.
Other stories by Brenda Bishop Blakey
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*
Enjoyed both.
I think some trees are mourned.
Just some people are not morned. It's all in the relationships.
I love the line - "No one mourns." *
I think this could be better structured. The first line should really be the last line.
And you should delete the bonus one because it really detracts from the tree poem. You should post the bonus poem on its own.
SDR
PS. Sally and Mathew, do I really have to say this is just my opinion and not something equal to the holy critic that is Dennison?
My edit:
No one mourns.
In the night they fall, their crashing sounds unheard.
Their spirits silently transported to a high holy place,
a sanctuary known only by trees.
They perhaps mourn their own.
In an unknown language they ritualistically recount:
the broken branches once besat by robin and owl.
Do trees know that they know?
Do they lean over a lake to glimpse themselves?
Do they wonder if their pockmarked skin will someday
be transfigured into fences with knotholes?
Will their remains be formed into a casket smooth
and quilted-satin lined.
Or maybe their fate is to become loose kindling for
the campers' summer fire, out gloried by weenie roasts
and late night s'mores.
There's Always a Tree Dying Somewhere
"But, no one mourns the odd tree down, give or take, right or wrong." This line has many levels - especially when connected to the ponderings of the middle stanza. I like the poem & bonus.
I think it takes away the impact of the last line, either one.
Maybe if it ended with "But, no one mourns the odd tree down, give or take, right or wrong."
It's a good poem anyway.
One of my earliest memories is when an old oak in front of our house was taken down. I remember crying. I was devastated. The stump almost a sacred aura throughout the rest of my childhood. A framed copy of Joyce Kilmer's poem graced the wall next to our front door. Your poem touches that nerve. Yes, I could probly benefit from counseling.
I found the second poem quite cute. *
I had a tree in the garden of my childhood home, it is still there, hope it never gets cut down.
There could actually be more than a couple of edits to this poem, to me that's a good thing.
I mean that there could be more than just one version, I see 4.
Thanks darlings: Amanda, Gary H., Rachna K., SDR, Sam, SDR, Mathew P., SDR, SDR, and SDR.
<3
(SDR, your editing exuberance is being taken under advisement.)
Brenda, definitely enjoyed both but have to admit the first one is my favorite. It has a beautiful flow and zen-like quality thatbimfind very pleasing.
I have other thoughts I'll keep to myself. Because I have social skills. ;)
Thank you, Charlotte. Yes, you have skills! :)